


Caught

by punk_rock_yuppie



Series: Drabbles [4]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Awkward Sexual Situations, M/M, Misunderstandings?, Smut, getting caught
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 13:39:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6197155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"The true measure of a man is what he would do if he knew he would never be caught."--Lord Kelvin</i>
</p><p>Joe catches Len and Barry in the act.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caught

**Author's Note:**

> written for anon on tumblr who requested _coldflash+caught_. I had intended to go the funny/sexy route and instead ended up going the sexy/angsty route, whoops.
> 
> enjoy!

Barry hums into the kiss. His hands are tingling from Len’s five o’clock shadow and his whole body is vibrating. He’s inching his way into Len’s lap slowly and surely and he’s surprised Len hasn’t taken control and hauled him into his lap already. Len’s fingers seem more intent on divesting Barry of as many clothes as possible—it had started with his jacket, his cardigan, now his t-shirt.

Barry shivers when the chilled air hits his skin and tells himself he crawls into Len’s lap more for warmth than anything else. (It’s a lie, they both know it’s a lie, neither of them comment). Barry starts to roll his hips insistently, frustrated by the layers of jeans and underwear separating them.

“Len.” Barry murmurs as he finally pulls back from the kiss. His lips feel swollen and numb. “Please?”

“Oh, Scarlet,” Len finally brings a hand between them, to the waistband of Barry’s jeans, “no need to beg.” Len smirks and undoes the button and zipper slowly. He keeps his eyes locked on Barry’s and relishes the blush that erupts on the apple of the speedster’s cheeks, the way his breathing speeds up just a touch.

Barry moans when Len finally curls a hand around his cock and his voice completely overshadows the _click_ of the front door unlocking. Barry doesn’t hold anything back, fucking into Len’s fist desperately and moans spilling from his without inhibition. Barry’s eyes are heavy, almost closed, and he doesn’t see the front door open. Len’s hand moves just _so_ , and Barry starts to keen.

“Len, Len, _Len_!” Barry is so close, so _close_ —

The sound of a gun cocking and a throat clearing interrupt Barry’s orgasm.

Len freezes with his hand still around Barry’s prick, while the speedster’s gaze shoots from Len’s face to the person in the doorway: _Joe_.

“Uh.” Barry blushes so deep a red so fast, he feels faint. “Hey?”

Joe isn’t amused and nothing in his pose softens. His gun is trained on the back of Len’s head. “Bartholomew Henry Allen, what the hell is going on here?”

Slowly, so as not to alarm, Len quietly tucks Barry back into his pants and zips and buttons the jeans back up. Barry, at the same time, reaches for his discarded t-shirt and pulls it on.

“I’m not going to ask again.” Joe snaps. He takes a few steps closer until the muzzle of his gun is only a few inches from Len’s head. “I thought we discussed this.”

“I was in high school last time we talked about this!” Barry snaps, indignant.

“Rules haven’t changed, Barry. You live under my roof, it’s _your_ responsibility to make sure I don’t see things I really don’t want to see.”

Len hasn’t moved aside from his hands falling into his lap. He feels like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, which is probably an apt metaphor. He flicks his gaze to Barry, tries to catch the younger man’s eyes and communicate something. If Barry were thinking clearly, he could whisk Len away and come back to deal with Joe with less guns and less imminent death.

“Is he staying for dinner?”

Len tunes back into the conversation to see Barry’s face shifting through an array of expressions, mostly horrified and confused. Len listens as Joe puts the safety on his gun and holsters it.

Barry gapes at his foster dad like a fish out of water.

“I called in pizza on my way home.” Joe says and Len can feel the glare burning holes in the back of his skull.

Len realizes Barry is certifiably mute for the time being and, despite the fear trembling in him like a teenager on prom night, Len replies. “Sure, I can stay.”

The scandalized look Barry shoots him is almost amusing enough to ease the tension—even Joe lets out a gruff laugh—but not quite. “Good. I think we have some things to discuss. I’m going to go upstairs and change. Snart, you’ll pay the delivery boy I assume?”

Len nods. “Alright.” He keeps his tone smooth and drawling but there’s no denying the slightest waver of nerves. He still hasn’t turned to face Joe, isn’t sure he’ll be able to move at all tonight. Joe just mumbles something and then takes the stairs and he’s gone, for the moment.

Barry slaps his arm the moment they’re alone. “You _cannot_ stay for dinner!” He whispers as though they’re having any luck at being discreet.

“What, Scarlet, don’t want me to meet the parents yet?”

“You weren’t supposed to meet them at all!” Barry snaps.

A renewed tension falls over the room and Len is startled by how much the words hurt, how deep they cut. Sure, they hadn’t really discussed this thing between them in explicit detail, but… Len squares his shoulder with a shrug and finally stands. He pointedly ignores the way his knees are shaking and strides to the door.

“Alright, Flash, if that’s what you want.” Len digs around in his pockets for a wad of cash, sets it on the door side table, then raises his hands in surrender. He keeps his voice sharp and firm. “Be seeing you.” He’s out the door and to the sidewalk before Barry even makes an attempt to stop him. By the time Barry is up and in the doorway, not only is the pizza boy there to deliver but Joe is back downstairs.

Len moves to a darker part of the sidewalk and stops to catch his breath. If he strains his ears he can hear Barry shouting for him, the pizza boy apologizing, Joe paying the kid and then trying to wrangle Barry back inside the house. Len takes deep and measured breaths until his legs aren’t quaking as hard anymore. He turns where he stands and watches the West’s kitchen light flicker on. He watches the silhouettes of Joe and Barry stand and argue in the kitchen with a stack of pizza boxes nearly as tall as Barry sitting beside them.

One of the shadows—Joe, he thinks—turns to the window and it’s as if the man is staring right at him despite the curtain separating them. Len continues to watch as the other shadow, as Barry shouts something and throws his hands in the air, then speeds off, upstairs probably. Joe collapses into a seat at the kitchen table. Something in Len aches and it accompanies the still stinging cut of Barry’s words.

Len has half a mind to sneak in through the back door and confront Joe, to comfort Joe, even. But then his mind drifts to Barry and the absolute disgust in his tone—as though the mere notion of Len being something more than a casual hook-up was so horrifying. Len swallows the emotion that’s threatening to suffocate him and turns away from the West’s home. He shoves his hands deep in the pockets of his parka and stalks off in the opposite direction. He knows he’ll need to call Lisa to come pick him up; Barry had scooped him up after meeting up at a bar and whisked him here, so Len is without his own means home.

He knows he’ll need to call Lisa but for now he just keeps walking, resolutely leaving Barry behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> reminder that i'm taking 1 word prompts over at [my tumblr](http://punk-rock-yuppie.tumblr.com/ask)!


End file.
